Trusting You with My Life
by Animatized
Summary: There is nothing behind the veil. It is a bleak and pitiless world, where the only comfort is his memories. And with the memories brings pain. Longing. Of the Potters, and the Fidelius Charm.
1. Prophecy

**Trusting You with My Life  
** By Natsue Arishima   
  
**Disclaimer:** I have no ownership over any of the Harry Potter characters. This is merely my own version of what happened to Harry's parents. Angsty, dark, and all that good stuff that us fangirls love!   
  
**Note:** I'm not sure that many of you know, but Animatized is a writing duo between me (Natsue) and Kimiko Hiraki. However, Kimi won't be writing in this fic. Yep, I did it all by my lonesome self... But anyway, enough of that. Please read and enjoy -- reviews would be nice, too!   
  


_ The one born with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...   
  
Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...   
  
And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have the power the Dark Lord knows not...   
  
And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...   
  
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...   
  
_ **Chapter I: Prophecy**

  
  
Albus Dumbledore froze in his tracks, his clear, blue eyes wide behind the half-moon glasses. He remained motionless for some time, deep in thought, before, with a sweeping of his long robes, turning around again, his face masked by its usual serene look. In two long strides, he had reached his previous gritty table and settled down on a dust-infested chair.   
  
Sibyll Trelawney appeared to have no idea that she was being watched. Her huge, magnified eyes were unfocused, her figure slouching and looking odd in the numerous chains, beads and scarves draped over her neck. The dirty bottle of butterbeer in front of her had been obliviously knocked over by one of her own pale hands, covered in bangles and rings.   
  
Dumbledore examined her closely, harsh words still echoing in his mind. _A real prediction then, I assume..._ He leaned forward, elbows on the table and resting his chin on top on his slender hands, and waited. Around him, the noise continued. Up front, a strange looking witch was talking to a vampire. Two hags were busy chugging what looked like blood.   
  
Ignoring the commotion, Dumbledore chanced a glance outside of Hog's Head. In the gloom of the darkness, between the bright windows reflected on the ground, the wizard could just make out the shape of a man, slinking off into the night, bent double and clutching his arm. A snap of the door caused Dumbledore to turn around. The bartender had just limped back inside, dusting off his hands and glaring over his shoulder at the man whom he had just thrown out. The figure outside the bar took off at the angry glare.   
  
The thin woman in front of him finally moved, blinking behind her large glasses. Trelawney jumped up as she felt her hand in the mass of spilled butterbeer and tapped the table with her wand; the spillage evaporated and the empty bottle was placed upright. Shaking her head slightly and readjusting her necklaces, she turned around, caught sight of the smiling Dumbledore and gave a soft, _"Oh!"_ of surprise.   
  
"Alright, Sibyll?" the old man asked gently, noting that her voice was the usual light and misty, nothing like the coarse voice she had just spoken in moments before. The Seer nodded, though still slightly nervous. "Yes, thank you, Albus." She cleared her throat, wringing her hands hopelessly and squirming slightly in her chair. Dumbledore smiled reassuringly.   
  
"Well, I believe that I have some good news for you." He leaned back in his chair, stirring his unfinished drink carelessly. Trelawney bit her lip, her eyes widening and staring breathlessly at her companion. "You have qualified for the new Divination teacher at Hogwarts."   
  
"Dear me!" Sibyll relaxed, smiling joyfully and clapping her hands. "Thank you, thank you… Another drink then, Dumbledore?"   
  
"Oh no, I'm alright." He watched her sink back in her chair, sighing. He smiled at her again, but the fake joy didn't light his eyes. His mind was on a different matter, more important then the situation in front of him. He took a small sip from his drink before clearing his throat and fixing her in his light blue gaze. "I would like a favor, however."   
  
"Certainly, certainly..." She sat up, expectant. "Anything." Her elbow bumped into the empty butterbeer bottle and she moved it aside, before focusing her glance at Dumbledore.   
  
The man stared at her huge, magnified eyes before looking down at his hands, as if pondering on what he was going to say. Moments passed before he finally looked up again and propped his chin once again on his hands. "I would like you to explain the prediction that you have just told me."   
  
Silence greeted his words. Trelawney's mouth was open slightly in shock, but she closed it almost immediately. "Prediction?" Her voice shook. "I'm afraid that I don't know what you are talking about."   
  
Dumbledore sighed, before glancing back down at his drink. "I see," he whispered softly. He tapped his index finger lightly on the table, thinking. The phrases kept repeating in his mind. The quiet atmosphere at their table stretched on. Sibyll bit her lip again, tugging at her scarf. "I'm sorry..."   
  
"Don't be," Dumbledore stated firmly, looking up and smiling. "You'll begin work tomorrow. If you have questions, you may ask Minerva McGonagall." He got up, the light glinting off his long, white hair and beard. "In the meantime, please excuse me. I've some work to do."   
  
Trelawney watched silently as the Headmaster exited the bar, pausing only to pay for his drink. He seemed in an extreme hurry, his aura overpowering. The people surrounding him needed only one glance before hastily shuffling out of the way.   
  
"Albus Dumbledore..." the Seer whispered as she watched the tall figure blend into the night. She got up, wrapping her scarf around her neck. "The only one He ever feared..."   
  


**********

  
  
It was early morning in Godric's Hollow. The sun had just risen, the light poring slowly over the many sleeping houses. However, one family was already awake.   
  
Lily Potter stepped out of the kitchen, pushing her thick, dark red hair back over her shoulder. A yawning baby Harry was placed on her hip, blinking his big, green eyes sleepily. His mother smiled slightly, tickling a chubby chin. In front of her, two wizards were deep in discussion. One of them was her own husband, James Potter. The other was none other than Albus Dumbledore.   
  
Placing Harry back in his cradle, the witch stretched and flicked her wand. A tray of toast came zooming out of the kitchen. She put it on the table, kissed James on the cheek, and pulled up a chair. "Do have some toast, Albus."   
  
"Thank you Lily." Dumbledore looked up, eyes twinkling, as he reached for a toast. He spent a few minutes eating it quietly. James looked at Lily, his hazel eyes narrowed slightly in concern. He ran his hand through his messy black hair, before sighing. "He's after us, Lily."   
  
Dumbledore stopped his chewing and slowly looked up, staring calmly at Lily's horrified face. Readjusting his glasses, he cleared his throat. "Not after _you_, exactly. More like, He's after Harry." He bit into his toast again. "At least, that's what I think."   
  
"Wait - what?" The woman gasped, her eyes darting automatically towards Harry's crib. "That's... no..." She stood up and rushed over to the crib. Picking Harry up gently, she held him close, as if afraid the Dark Lord would snatch him away in an instant. James got up too and hugged her. He looked down at Harry and brushed a strand of hair out of the small face. Looking towards Lily again, the man whispered, "Let's hear what Dumbledore's got to say, alright?"   
  
As the two of them sat down again, Harry now wide awake and sitting on his mother's lap, Dumbledore leaned forward, his light blue eyes intent. "Last night, I was in the Hog's Head, with Sibyll Trelawney, a descendent of the Seer Cassandra Trelawney. She had applied to be the next Divination teacher for Hogwarts. A nice woman, but with no obvious talent. I didn't need a teacher who could not teach, and had turned to leave."   
  
Dumbledore paused. Harry cooed, laughing as he played with his mother's hair. The old wizard watched the young boy silently for a few minutes, a small and yet sad smile on his face. The sunlight crept up over the windowsill and lighted up the old face, glinting off every glistening strand in his hair and beard, etching the deep wrinkles in his face and around his eyes. Lily flicked her wand; a bottle of previously warmed milk came from the kitchen and landed evenly on the table. Harry's eyes lit up as he raised his arms towards it, smiling. James picked up the bottle and gently handed it to his son.   
  
The old wizard swallowed, a hand reaching up to brush a strand of thin white hair out of his face. "She spoke of a prophecy. One that circles around Harry and Voldemort, and their eternal, bound fate. 'Neither can live while the other survives.'"   
  
Lily looked horrified. "Albus..." Her white face stood out against her red hair. "Are you sure...?" She avoided Dumbledore's solemn face. "What can we do then...? No one can stand up to the Dark Lord."   
  
"It may not be Harry exactly," Dumbledore murmured after a moment's silence. "Sibyll didn't name the specific child. She merely stated that the child had to be born at the end of July. We are limited to two choices. Only Voldemort himself can chose in the end. Mark him as an equal. And I believe that he soon will. Had I been more careful, the Dark Lord would not have known. However, a Death Eater overheard Sibyll's prediction last night." He didn't need to finish his sentence.   
  
"If you aren't sure, then why do you come to us first?" Lily blinked her almond shaped eyes as Harry clapped his hands, eyes focused on his milk bottle.   
  
"Because the other child is none other than Neville Longbottom." Dumbledore smiled slightly at James' expression. "I believe that Voldemort will chose, not the pure blood, but the half blood." The old wizard looked fondly at Harry, blue eyes twinkling, before his face hardened again. "Tom will most likely see himself in Harry, since he himself had a Muggle father."   
  
James remained silent, looking down intently at Lily. Finally, he attempted a casual smile and looked up again at Dumbledore. "What would you have us do?" His voice was actually serious. The playful tone had faded.   
  
Dumbledore's response came quickly. "The Fidelius Charm."   
  
Lily blinked. James, however, nodded. Dumbledore smiled reassuringly. "I've been thinking over it," he said softly, his light blue eyes examining James' determined face. "And I'd be honored to be your Secret-Keeper."   
  
He hid his surprise when he saw James squirm slightly and look at Lily. His wife raised an eyebrow. "What?" James shook his head and ruffled up his own hair as a habit. Dumbledore's beard twitched before his eyes hardened. "Is there something wrong...?"   
  
"No... not at all..." James frowned, grabbing a piece of toast. "It's just that... I'd like to talk to Sirius first, you know... No offense!" he added hastily as his previous headmaster sighed and stood up. "It's just that I'm sure Sirius would want to know what was going on."   
  
The old wizard gave a strained smile. "Very well. Please make your decision as soon as possible. I fear for the worst." He looked at Harry again, his lips set in a thin line. "Who knows when Tom will strike. I'll come back before nightfall. I've still got the Longbottom's to talk too." He looked through the window. The sun was high up in the sky, and Dumbledore could guess that it was around noon. He strode over to the door and turned the knob. Sunlight blazed in. Harry smiled and tore his gaze away from his milk.   
  
Dumbledore stepped over the threshold, bending his waist slightly as to not hit the ceiling. His white hair and beard gleamed in the sun, and the silver stars embedded on his dark blue robes seemed to shimmer and move. "God speed," he whispered, before he disappeared in a flash of blue and silver.   
  


**********

  
  
James sat down quietly at the table. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest and thinking hard, hazel eyes narrowed in frustration. Tom Riddle... The same Tom that had gone to Hogwarts... His fists clenched. "Bastard."   
  
The window slammed shut and James turned. A golden eagle was perched lightly on Lily's arm, the dangerously sharp talons gently pricking the cloth. The witch stroked the eagle's golden plumage softly with one finger before untying the letters attached to the bird's leg. Task done, the eagle nuzzled Lily's hair before opening its grand wings and flying on to James' shoulder.   
  
"Hey Garan," James whispered. The golden eagle nipped his ear. Harry, who was playing with the house cat, Kyeth, giggled happily and pointed at Garan, who promptly flew towards the young boy and white kitten. The three of them raced into the other room, laughing.   
  
James was deep in thought when he felt cool hands massaging his back. "Why did you refuse Dumbledore...?" Lily asked, lowering her body so that she was eye level with her husband. "Albus Dumbledore, James. He -"   
  
"Are you saying that you don't trust Sirius?" James snapped suddenly. He abruptly stood up and turned around to face Lily, whose eyes had opened in surprised at his sudden outburst. James ran a hand through his hair. "Look, Sirius is my best friend. You really think he's not capable of doing this?"   
  
Lily sighed and turned around. "It's not that... It's just that... I want the best for Harry. And, well, Dumbledore's has a better chance of keeping him safe." She bit her lip as she heard James sigh. "But... if you really think that Sirius..."   
  
The wizard suddenly grinned, hugging his wife. "I promise, you won't regret making Sirius our Secret-Keeper." He suddenly became serious. "I trust him with my life."   
  
Lily turned, her green eyes examining his closely. Finally, she lifted up her hands in defeat and averted her gaze. "Very well."   
  
**********   
  
-Natsue Arishima   
  



	2. Padfoot

**Trusting You with My Life**  
  
By Natsue Arishima

_The one born with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...  
  
Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…  
  
And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have the power the Dark Lord knows not…  
  
And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…  
  
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies… _

**Chapter II: Padfoot**  
  
Sirius Black yawned loudly, stretching his arms and bending his back with a small pop. His dark hair shifted back over his eyes, elegantly framing his slender face, as he straightened up and continued his casual way down the road, strolling around aimlessly. Rubbing his tired eyes, he came to a crossroad and took a left, into Godric's Hollow.   
  
His knew the magicians that lived here, and was especially close with the witches. His eyes glinted back to their usual charming state as he promptly adjusted his black buttoned shirt matching black pants, making sure that just enough skin was visible. Several of the witches were already outside; they waved shyly to him as he passed and he waved casually back, throwing them his cocky smile. Several swooned.  
  
Had this been a regular day, he would have spent more time flirting, but James had specifically called him over, and Padfoot know that Prongs would never ask for help unless it was urgent. So, sighing, Sirius only spared himself a few dazzling grins and waves before continuing his walk. He could take advantage of his looks later.  
  
That in him, he increased his pace, but not so much as to make it look like he was in a hurry. Even though he couldn't talk to the ladies now didn't mean that he was to ruin his appearance to them. All too soon, he found himself in front of a familiar lawn and decided to end his casual attitude; forgetting about the eyes watching him, he strode over the soft green grass. When it came to choosing between friends and women, friends were always the first priority. Without even knocking, he unlocked the door with a sweep of his wand.He traveled his way through the familiar house, not bothering to take of his shoes. A small white cat peeked its head out of a door; after seeing who it was, Kyeth purred and sprang forward, rubbing himself against Sirius's leg. The Animagus grinned and picked up the rumbling kitten; who bashfully snuggled his nose underneath the man's chin.   
  
A man's voice came through the door that Kyeth had just walked through. "Lily, you didn't happen to hear the door open, did you?" Low and yet playful. The voice belonged to the one and only James Potter.  
  
"Door open? No dear." Lily Evans Potter, sounding like she was in the living room. The sweet redhead, who had played hard to catch for many years. Sirius smiled to himself before inviting himself to the hidden room behind the slightly opened door.  
  
He found himself in James's study, and smirked as he slowly lowered Kyeth onto the ground. The cat quickly darted away after licking Sirius's hand, obviously having heard Harry's gentle coos. Straightening up, Sirius examined his surroundings. In front of him was a worn and yet soft looking armchair, currently occupied by a certain wizard, placed in front of a mahogany desk. It was littered with scrolls and quills, and behind it was a filled bookshelf. To the left was an open window. Silently Sirius fingered his wand. His prank-filled years had never left him.  
  
James Potter frowned, running another hand through his unruly hair as his eyes were lost in the scenery beyond the open window. His mind was clouded with confusion and most of all, fear. Lord Voldemort. He Who Must Not Be Named. You-Know-Who. Tom Riddle. After them.  
  
After Harry Potter. After his son.  
  
He suddenly jumped as something wet and cold nudged his elbow, and would have yelled if screaming had been his nature. Instead, eyes wide, he lunged out of his chair and spun around, wand outstretched, to find that his hand was pointed in the middle of two, pleading eyes and a mass of smooth, black hair.  
  
Dog.  
  
The large black animal eyed him again with those pleading puppy eyes and James blinked before letting out an indignant "Hey!" as his wand was yanked out of his hand, held carefully in the dog's powerful jaws. And then he realized that the eyes were silently laughing at him, and the dog was rumbling, almost giggling.  
  
"Damn you, Sirius," James muttered, but sighed and scratched the dog behind the ears. Padfoot barked happily before depositing James's wand and padding softly out of the carpet-covered study and into the tile-floored kitchen. The animal sniffed around, jumping up and placing large paws on the counter as he grabbed some chocolate. James rolled his eyes and followed Padfoot into the living room.  
  
The large black dog had slowed his pace; every step was light and quiet. Even his breathing had lightened. Lily sat with her back turned to the approaching animal, accompanying Harry as he played with the house pets in his playpen.  
  
Padfoot stopped inches away from Lily, and James had to hide a smile at his oblivious wife. The dog hesitated, as if unsure, before wagging a silent tail and letting out a loud, obnoxious bark.  
  
Lily shot up, clamping a hand over her mouth to prevent a scream, and Harry blinked in surprise. Padfoot almost smiled; it was as close to a smile as a dog could ever get; before playfully licking Lily on the cheek to calm her down. The witch sighed, hand over her eyes, but was unable to suppress her laughter. Behind her, Harry, having seen the dog when his mother moved out of the way, clapped and squealed in joy as he slurred, "Unc' Serus! Unc' Serus!"  
  
The baby's laughter was suddenly joined by a deeper, much richer sound as Sirius turned back into his human form. Lightly, he picked Harry up and gently lifted the giggling baby into the air. Next to him, Lily shook her head, still slowly getting over her shock, and James put an arm around her. Together, they watched their best man dance around the room with their son.  
  
----------"Secret Keeper, huh…" Sirius murmured, furrowing his brows as he ran a hand through his dark hair. The man stretched out his legs, leaning even further back on his chair so that the front of his seat was hanging over the ground. James bit his lip nervously as he examined the now serious face of his best friend.  
  
In the other room, the two men could hear Lily and Harry bustling around. The small boy had been determined to help his mother make "Shocilate Caak" and wouldn't take no for an answer. And listening to the both slightly annoyed and yet happy sounds, it seemed as if said boy had just ruptured his third flour bag.  
  
"Well?" James suddenly snapped, uncomfortable with the silence. What could Sirius be doubting? His best friend, not wanting to become a Secret Keeper? Or was the usual carefree lady's man worried about betraying a friend…? James narrowed his eyes, but his voice was soft. "I trust you, Sirius."  
  
Sirius started, as if surprised. He stared hard at James again before managing a small smile. "That's not what I'm worried about." James could hear the urgency in the low voice. The fact that Sirius was, well, serious about something… that fact alone was just odd.   
  
"What is it that you're not comfortable with?" the wizard asked slowly, resting his head on his hands as he leaned on the table. "I know it's dangerous. Well, anything with Voldemort behind it is risky, but –"  
  
He saw Sirius move after the word "Voldemort". His friend cracked his knuckles absentmindedly before clearing his throat. "I know that it's dangerous. I don't mind that part. Remember, we're both friends with a werewolf! But… it's so… sudden. Harry's what, one? And one as powerful as the Dark Lord is already after him… Are you sure Dumbledore got the right kid?"  
  
"I trust Dumbledore. I believe him too. When was the last time that he was wrong, Sirius?" James slowly stood up, stretching. His confidence about confronting Sirius was slowly fading. Maybe Albus Dumbledore was a better choice for their Secret Keeper after all.  
  
As if reading James's mind, Sirius spoke up sharply. "It's dodgy, and a bit weird. You have to admit to that." He sighed, standing up as well. "But I'll do it, for you and Lily. So… what place do you have in mind?"  
  
James blinked before comprehension dawned on his face. "Oh yeah. We've got to get a new place, don't we? I haven't talked to Lily about that yet, but I think we'll get a house in the same neighborhood. I'm rather attracted to Godric's Hollow."  
  
Sirius nodded occasionally at James's words, not really listening. The rest of the evening passed in a blur. All he could remember was James's words, and the name "Voldemort" ringing endlessly in his mind. It was already seven when he managed to start his walk home. Remus was going to be mad at him – the two shared a place, since the price of the house was too high for either one of them to pay alone, and Moony was always paranoid about returning home after dark.   
  
He forgot to show off to the ladies. He forgot that he was supposed to buy dinner. He forgot where he was going. Sirius Black was frightened. He was truly frightened. Not about Voldemort, or death even. But he was afraid. Afraid that he might let James down. Afraid he'd blurt, open his mouth. He wasn't sure how long he could last against the Dark Lord. But he'd try.   
  
He'd try his best.   
  
When it came to choosing between friends and women, friends were always Sirius Black's first priority.   
  
----------  
  
"No!" the man screamed, collasping onto his knees as he slid slowly onto the floor. His dark hair shielded his eyes, blocking out the hollow, dead light in them and the substance that he refused to call tears. His fists pounded hopelessly on the invisible walls of darkness around him. He was floating, and yet not. There was no ground, no sky. There was nothing here. Except pain. Longing. Memories. "Why?" he screamed, the pounding of his fists weakening. He felt himself crumple into a useless, twitching heap.   
  
"Why..." he whispered, ignoring the pain and the ache in his heart. "Why are you making me remember...?"

----------  
  
-Natsue Arishima


End file.
